


underneath the mistletoe, hold me tight and kiss me slow

by tmylm



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Mistletoe, bechloe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27998703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmylm/pseuds/tmylm
Summary: Beca has been trying to avoid Chloe (and thetinycrush she has on her). But then they're standing under the mistletoe together, and how can she avoidthat?Here's the originalheadcanon!
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 19
Kudos: 236





	underneath the mistletoe, hold me tight and kiss me slow

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Glee's _Extraordinary Merry Christmas_ (because I evidently have unhealthy attachments to this song).

Man, this is _so_ freaking stupid.

(The current issue even more so than this unnecessary Christmas party, in fact.)

In general, Beca has really never been the most festive of people. Or, okay, maybe she kind of liked Christmas as a little kid—don’t all little kids? But then her parents had gotten divorced somewhere around her preteen years, and suddenly holidays were just another excuse for them to bicker and, in Beca’s mind, essentially use their only daughter as a pawn.

So Christmas is...it’s just not a big deal to Beca, not something she really cares to put a lot of her energy into.

Evidently, at least at Barden University, she is very much alone in her disdain, if the overboard festivities going on around her are anything to go by. The sorority house in which Beca finds herself, surrounded by way more people than she really cares to be in the presence of, is decked out with so many twinkling lights and reels of glittery ribbon, she really could be forgiven for assuming she had stepped out of reality and right into Santa Claus’ very own workshop. The decorative garlands, dusted with fake snow, wrapped around the wood of the staircase look more tacky than anything else, but when Chloe had made a big deal about how adorable they looked, Beca had found herself enthusiastically agreeing…

Then she’d seen Stacie and Amy over Chloe’s shoulder, both staring her way with knowing smirks and twinkling eyes, and that had been Beca’s cue to bounce.

And it is not like Beca specifically _wants_ to stay away from Chloe. In truth, she is one of the small handful of people at Barden University that Beca can actually stand to be around. Beca doesn’t know what it is about her—Chloe is _way_ more peppy than the kind of personalities Beca generally surrounds herself with—but she just has this strange ability, this way of making Beca feel at ease…while also sometimes elevating her heart rate a little bit, too.

It had been entirely accidental, the way they had found out about Beca’s first official one on one run-in with Chloe after their initial brief conversation at the activities fair. Just a stupid comment Beca had made under her breath about how it was not an invitation after stating she had to go take a shower. Evidently, she had spoken a little louder than intended, because both Amy and Stacie, the two people standing closest to her, had stared at her with the pricked up ears of two startled, excited dogs.

Chloe had been the one to explain it with a breathy laugh and a nonchalant wave of her hand, how she’d heard Beca singing in the shower and barged in there, uninvited, to demand Beca sing with her. Hearing the story recalled so plainly had made Beca blush, and ultimately started the playful comments about a blossoming romance beginning in the oh so romantic setting of the communal showers.

Ever since, Beca has been hyper aware of her natural reactions to Chloe, of the way her pale cheeks heat up and flush a subtle—at least she hopes it’s subtle—shade of red when Chloe sends a playful wink her way, or does something as minuscule as tossing her vibrant curls over her shoulder.

Okay, so maybe Beca has a crush. Just a little, tiny crush. But it is unimportant and it is stupid, and absolutely not something Beca has any reason to admit.

Somehow, though, perhaps because they had been the only two privy to the whole shower story, Amy and Stacie both just seem to _know_ , and Beca is doing all she can to throw them off her scent. She doesn’t plan to even be at Barden University for much longer, she doesn’t need something as ridiculous as an inexplicable crush keeping her rooted—nor does she need to confirm anybody’s suspicions.

So, it is stupid, it’s so, so stupid, but avoiding Chloe is just...it’s really just the easiest option. At least in the presence of others.

But, man, is Chloe making that _really_ damn hard.

Whether they happen to be standing directly beside one another, or Beca simply hears the sound of that familiar, melodic giggle radiating from elsewhere in the room, it seems that Chloe is always _right there_. Her presence is distracting, it is captivating, maybe even more so because Beca is making a conscious effort not to be seen too close to her. Perhaps she is overthinking it (she is _definitely_ overthinking it) but Beca just...she can’t help it, and a part of her is worrying to some extent that she is doing too much.

Even more so when she feels a gentle squeeze to her side, causing her to instantly whirl around on the spot to find herself face to face with a red faced, cheerful looking Chloe Beale, and Beca’s heart rate instantly spikes.

“Is everything okay?” Chloe asks with a gently tilted head, prior expression melting into one of curious concern. There is a familiar glaze to those mesmerizing eyes as she seems to intently study Beca’s face, likely caused by whatever concoction is in her cup. “I kind of get the feeling you’re avoiding me.”

_Fuck_.

“What?” Beca unintentionally sputters, probably entirely giving herself away. Still, she attempts to save face with straightened shoulders. “Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe hums, tip of her finger tapping casually to her chin. “Just a feeling, I guess.”

Lying to Chloe feels bad, it feels wrong, but it dawns on Beca as she takes in the expectant look on her face that it would likely be more hurtful to Chloe if she were to tell her the truth. So, she instinctively shakes her head, elbow playfully nudging against her arm. “Not avoiding you, dork. I’m just mingling…” she pauses, suddenly hyper aware of the fact that she had been very much standing on her own before Chloe’s arrival, “Uh, or whatever.”

“Mingling or whatever,” Chloe echoes almost fondly, lazy smile stretching onto her lips. She does a quick sweep of the general area, before asking with a neatly arched brow. “So, are you going to introduce me to all of your friends?”

It is instinct for Beca’s shoulders to instantly relax, for Chloe’s strange ability to make her feel at ease (while still terrifying her beyond belief) to kick in. “Shut up,” Beca murmurs through a quiet chuckle, the amusement easily mirroring back at her on Chloe’s face. “I’m not avoiding you,” she says again, this time with a little more sincerity. “I guess I’m just not really into this whole Christmas party thing, I don’t know.”

Chloe’s soft brows tug subtly together. “Which part?”

“I don’t know,” Beca shrugs a shoulder, “All of it?”

“You don’t like Christmas?” Chloe questions, and it is clear that there is no judgment, that it is simply just a curious observation.

It is an easy, straightforward question, but one that, if Beca were to really get into it, comes along with something of a loaded answer. She settles instead on a nonchalant shrug and a simple, “Just not my favorite holiday.”

Chloe is an inquisitive person, Beca knows that about her already, so the quizzical look on her face, almost as if she wants to ask more, is anything but surprising. More surprising, however, is the way she eventually responds with a short nod of her head, and Beca realizes she has gotten away without delving into the deep backstory of her disdain.

“I feel like I’m gonna pee myself,” Chloe says instead, and Beca does well to hold back her own amusement at the very _Chloe_ admission. She looks at her with an arched brow, and does her best to ignore the way her skin prickles beneath the light squeeze Chloe gives to her upper arm as she turns to most likely head for the bathroom. “Come find me later?”

“You got it,” Beca nods, two fingers tapping to her temple in mock salute, a dorky action she mentally chastises herself for as she watches Chloe walk away.

(She proceeds to quietly beat herself up for that part, too.)

* * *

Whether it is because she doesn’t want to flat out lie to Chloe, or just because, well, being lonely at a bustling party is kind of lame… Beca _does_ attempt a little mingling. Strategically, she finds herself joining Amy and Stacie’s small group, mostly just to see if they have anything to say about her earlier interaction with Chloe, and winds up nicely surprised to find that the topic never even arises. It helps her guard to drop slightly, and as Beca unintentionally—totally unintentionally...duh—spots Chloe a little later, she decides to do some damage control.

“No danger of peeing yourself?” Beca asks in place of an actual greeting.

Apparently, if the way Chloe stares at her with an arched brow is anything to go by, her jokey tone falls a little flat. “What?”

Instantly, Beca curls in on herself, cheeks reddening and shoes scuffing against the carpeted floor. “Oh, uh… You know, you had to pee before.” She realizes, when said aloud, what a dumb conversation opener it is.

“Oh, that!” Chloe chuckles, breezily waving a hand. “No, I peed, like, four times since then.”

“Right,” Beca nods, glancing briefly toward the yellow cup in Chloe’s hand. Chloe lifts it to her mouth, and Beca finds herself following along, though immediately tears her gaze away the second it lands on Chloe’s lips.

“Are you having more fun yet?” Chloe questions cheerfully. There is upbeat Christmas music humming around them—the same playlist seems to have been on loop the entire evening—and Chloe casually sways her hips in time with the beat.

Not that Beca is paying attention… Duh.

“Sure,” Beca says in as enthusiastic a tone as she can muster. The cup in her hand is almost empty, but she lifts it to shake gently. “This helps.”

“It sure does,” Chloe winks, and Beca does all she can not to literally melt into a puddle of mush right there and then.

Okay, so maybe her little, tiny crush isn’t _quite_ so little. Whatever.

As she watches Chloe’s hips rhythmically sway, hears her humming along with the current song, Beca cannot help but wonder what it would be like to be more like Chloe, more carefree. She looks like she is literally about to break out into a full dance at any moment, and there is something so dorky, yet so fucking adorable about it, Beca cannot help but...think. She just cannot help her thoughts.

Chloe quickly pulls her out of them, though, with the outstretched hand that extends toward her.

All Beca does is stare at it with an arched brow.

“What, you don’t want to dance with me?” Chloe questions, hip movements exaggerating some as she takes a few steps backward with her hand still held out for Beca to take. “Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t even like Christmas _music_.”

“Uh, Christmas music is fine,” Beca chuckles quietly, cautiously following Chloe forward without accepting the extended hand. “Dancing is _not_ my thing.”

Auburn brows raise, before there is something of a knowing look shot her way. “Not true.”

“Believe me, it’s true,” Beca says with a fond eye roll. “I can do that flight attendant choreography thing, but actual dancing… Not my thing.”

Although Chloe pouts, she eventually drops her hand, and some of the tension building up in Beca’s shoulders instantly falls. “Fine,” she says, arm folding across her middle. “Then what _is_ your thing?”

Beca doesn’t know whether it is a general question, or specifically surrounding Christmas. She realizes, however, as she takes in the expectant look on Chloe’s face, that it probably doesn’t matter, that Chloe is really just trying to keep her engaged in conversation. And Beca doesn’t understand why. As a person, she thinks of herself as kind of boring, in fact. Why Chloe, vibrant and eccentric as she is, would even _want_ to talk to her, especially when there are so many way more interesting people around, she doesn’t know, but she makes an effort not to question it.

“Uh,” Beca begins, gaze instinctively rising upward in thought. Instantly, as she catches sight of the bright, shiny decoration hanging above them, her cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and her heart plummets into her stomach.

Beca may not like Christmas very much, she may not care for all of its traditions, but she is not stupid, she understands the representation of _mistletoe_ , and she finds herself now hyper aware of the fact that she and Chloe are standing directly beneath it.

“You don’t have a thing?” Chloe questions, evidently blissfully unaware.

“What?” Beca responds, pulling herself from her panicked mind. “No, I do. I, uh,” she pauses to gather her words, to shake off the intrusive thoughts flying through her brain. Her gaze lowers briefly to the floor, hand lifting to tuck a chunk of fallen hair behind her ear, before she glances up to take in the neutral smile settled comfortably on Chloe’s lips. “Music,” she says somewhat dumbly. “I like music, but like, I like mixing it, I guess?”

There is a look of intrigue in Chloe’s expression, like she is genuinely impressed, and perhaps even curious to know more. “What do you mean?”

“Mash-ups,” Beca clarifies. She knows that she is being stupid, that she doesn’t _need_ to act awkwardly right now, and that it is simply a _decoration_ , one that Chloe hasn’t even seen. So, she clears her throat, attempting to push a little normalcy to her voice. “I take different tracks and beats and layer them together. It’s silly, it’s probably nothing.” Nothing other than the very thing she wants to do with her life, anyway.

“I don’t think that’s silly,” Chloe promises with a quick shake of her head. “That actually sounds really cool.”

“Yeah?” Beca questions, natural smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It is not often she shares her music with anybody, and those she does seem to judge—her father being the perfect example. The validation is nice, even if it is just in polite conversation. The validation from _Chloe_ is even nicer.

“Yeah,” Chloe nods enthusiastically, “I think that sounds awesome.”

“Really?” Beca’s gaze instinctively drifts upward again, almost like she is drawn to the very thing that has her stomach twisting the way it is. Once again, her cheeks heat up in response. “I mean, I have a bunch of stuff on my computer. Maybe I could, uh, show you sometime.”

There is a look of wonder in Chloe’s eyes, it is sparkling and almost childlike, and Beca realizes that she is not just being polite, that she is _actually_ impressed. It is not a reaction Beca is used to, nor that she even knows how to respond to.

“I’d love that,” Chloe grins, lifting her cup to her lips and tipping back her head to finish off the rest of its contents. Beca prays she doesn’t notice the decoration above them.

It is like a fight or flight instinct—emphasis on the _flight_ —the way Beca takes a small step back, just in case.

“Ugh, empty,” Chloe frowns as she lowers her cup, gaze falling to the receptacle.

If she _has_ seen, she doesn’t let on. Regardless, Beca cannot help that nagging feeling of panic, of needing to walk away, if only to gather herself for a moment. “Mine is too,” she says, grasping the opportunity and shaking her almost empty cup. Instinctively, she reaches out to take Chloe’s with her free hand. “Here, I’ll go refill.”

“Oh,” Chloe nods, easily handing it over, “Okay! I’ll be here.”

Beca opts not to ask what she wants, and instead turns on her heel to make her hasty retreat. It is the sound of Chloe’s voice that stops her.

“Hey, Beca?”

“Yeah?”

What she expects to whirl around to see, Beca truly does not know. It is not the sight she is met with, though; Chloe, innocent smile on her painted lips, and dazzling gaze directed up toward the mistletoe hanging above them.

Beca doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. Yet again, her face heats up to something dangerous, red color reaching the tips of her ears this time. It probably does all of the answering for her.

And there Chloe goes again, that melodic giggle like music to Beca’s ears, somehow causing her panic to fade to a feeling of quiet comfort, while also lifting her heart rate exponentially. She cannot help the lazy smile that tugs at her lips, nor the shy expression it pulls along with it.

“Get over here,” Chloe chuckles softly, motioning Beca closer with a curled pointer.

So, against everything in her, almost as if she isn’t even thinking about it, she does. Beca’s feet begin to move, to carry her closer to the one person in this entire house that can both terrify and comfort her all at the same time, until she is close enough for Chloe to wrap an arm around her neck and use it to gently tug her in, close enough to smell Chloe’s perfume, and to feel her body against her own.

“Saw you looking, you know?” Chloe smirks, glancing briefly up toward the ceiling, before training her gaze on Beca’s face.

“Yeah?” Beca questions somewhat shakily, though there is something very relaxing about being held in Chloe’s arms this way, about _feeling_ her so closely, even with the knowledge of what is about to come.

“Mhm,” Chloe murmurs, ducking her head to push parted lips gently to Beca’s.

It is instinct for Beca’s arms, cups still held in each hand, to wind their way naturally around Chloe’s waist, for her to relax into the feeling of what suddenly seems like a very, very long overdue kiss.

And it is not just a simple peck, not a small motion to simply follow the rules of Christmas tradition. It is slow and it is tender, and it is so, so easy for Beca to lose herself in the feeling. She basks in the way Chloe’s arms tighten around her, her own doing the same in return.

Fine, so there is nothing _little_ about this crush…

Maybe, Beca realizes as she takes in the intensity of Chloe’s soft lips against her own, takes in the feeling of Chloe prolonging this, of really savoring it in the same way Beca does, it is not even one-sided, the way she had initially thought.

But that is a conversation for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, thanks for reading! Find me [right here](http://chloebeale.tumblr.com).


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